


Grace

by ForgotMyPencil



Category: Preacher (Comics), Preacher (TV)
Genre: Better summary coming soon, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Maybe more than fluff later, Mixture of comics and show, Why Did I Write This?, hopefully, it just came to me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgotMyPencil/pseuds/ForgotMyPencil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She always tried to blend into the crowd. That way when she disappeared, no one would notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rockin' Robin

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from, I just wanted to try my hand at a Cassidy/OC fic. Sorry for any spelling or punctuation mistakes I've failed to correct. I just wanted to publish before I lost my nerve.

It was her turn to do the dishes that night. A chore she rather enjoyed. It gave her time to herself, to think about how she had lived her life up until that moment. 

 

It also gave her time to listen to the radio without Jesse questioning her about what song it was, or his Father muttering about the volume. 

 

That night, the DJ had been playing songs from the fifties. 'Magical memories' he had titled the show, and Grace had been reminiscing throughout all of them. 

 

"We've just got time for one more tune." The DJ announced as she dried her hands on the towel and prepared herself for the silence that followed when she turned the radio off. She hated that part of the evening. She loathed silence. "So before I hand over to young Russell for the news report, here's a little somethin' I hope gets y'all dropping whatever you're doin' and gets you dancin' around." His Texas drawl finally stopped as Bobby Day filled the kitchen. 

 

Oh how she adored this song. Without caring much about what the Preacher thought, she turned the volume dial to it's highest number and began to dance around the kitchen. Not much caring if Jesse was watching from the doorway either. 

 

Grabbing the wet cloth from the side, she began to wipe the counters down as she went, probably not making it any cleaner, but if she wasn't doing anything but dancing, the older Custer would probably come and turn the radio off and start his usual speech about lord knows what. She rarely listened to his speeches anyway. 

 

From the corner of her eye she noticed not just Jesse but Tulip as well, standing in the doorway watching curiously. Though Tulip had a smirk upon her face. Something Grace decided needed to be wiped off. 

 

Throwing the cloth into the now empty sink, she shimmied over to the doorway and took one of their hands in each of hers. The pair of them looking a little shocked at her boldness; never before had she dragged them in to dance with her. 

 

She took it in turns to spin them, and watched with glee as smiles began to overtake their faces, quickly followed by laughter. She didn't let their hands go until she felt they would keep dancing around the kitchen with her. But was pleasantly surprised when Jesse took hers back, spun her and tried, unsuccessfully, to dip her. Causing her to fall on the floor, Jesse stumbling down on top of her in a fit of giggles. It didn't take Tulip long to feel left out and 'trip' over on top of Jesse, her own giggles helping to fill the kitchen with noise. 

 

Grace could no longer hear the music and doubted the song was still playing, but it no longer mattered. 

 

Grace couldn't help but wonder what her husband would have thought if he could see her now.

 

Until she heard a deep chuckle from above them. The laughter died quickly.

 

Standing above them was Jesse's Father. A ghost of a smirk on his lips as he looked down at them. The radio had been shut off, the silence Grace so hated had taken over. 

 

"I do believe," He started as Tulip climbed off Jesse. "It's time for your homework." Jesse climbed off Grace and offered her a hand when he had stood. 

 

"We were just havin' fun." Tulip offered, not wanting to get in trouble. 

 

"I know. But it is homework time and this is not what I call homework." 

 

"Are we in trouble?" Jesse asked, a worried look upon his features. 

 

"Not if you get straight to your homework." He offered a smile that went unnoticed by the kids as they trailed out of the kitchen, their shoulders slumped. 

 

Grace tucked some hair behind her ear and turned back to the sink to retrieve the cloth. 

 

"I haven't seen her smile like that in a while." As Grace began to re-clean the counter top he continued. "I think you're going to be a good addition here in Annville." 

 

"Are you sure I can't rent a room in the motel? I must be somewhat of a burden to you taking up the spare room." That's what her husband had described her as. 'A burden that took up too much room.' 

 

"I will hear of no such thing. We've enjoyed havin' you here and we will continue to do so." If Grace had heard this a few weeks ago, she would have thought the Preacher was trying it on with her. But she was enjoying the fact that he was treating her more like a sister than that of someone he wanted in his bed. 

 

"Thank you." Grace whispered to the sink, too ashamed that her face might give away her emotions. 

 

"Grace?" The Preacher was interrupted from saying whatever thought had entered his mind as Jesse's voice called to her from the next room. 

 

"Yeah baby?" She called back to Jesse. 

 

"Can you come help me with this homework please?" It was only now that she turned to face the man did she see the grateful smile he wore that was, for some reason, directed at her. 

 

She beamed back, dropped the cloth once more and dried her hands on the towel. "Coming." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Thank you John." She headed out of the kitchen, the beam still firmly set on her lips. 

 

"You're welcome Grace." He whispered back.

 

"Oh Arthur if you could see me now," She muttered to herself as she made her way to the table to help the young Custer. "You'd be turning in your grave."


	2. All Saints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own only Grace

Two weeks earlier....

 

How she had ended up here she would never know. She had had the idea many years ago to just follow the road wherever it took her, but that idea had popped up when her brain had been fuzzy from all the alcohol she had drained. Boredom had made her finally decide to take action and actually do just that. 

 

The road had taken her to Annville. A seemingly quiet little town resting under the hot unforgiving sun. She had followed that road and a few people that passed on the pavements, all the way to a church that wouldn't have looked out of place back when the cowboys were reeking havoc. 

 

As she parked her rusted van outside the front of the building, she wondered if she would be able to enter, if some unseen force field would push her away, or if she would turn to ash the second the soles of her biker boots touched the wooden floor. 

 

She shook her head causing a few ginger strands to fall from the untidy bun she sported, telling herself it was just the sun getting to her, she took a deep breath and ascended the stairs. Only letting out the breath when she was safely in the building and in one piece. 

 

Taking a seat at the back between a young boy and an older man, she questioned why she had wanted to enter a church in the first place. As the Preacher started his sermon, she came to the decision that it was because she hadn't been inside one since her wedding day. Not that she wanted to think about that or him. 

She attempted to listen to the man at the front of the room but became more concerned about the man beside her whose hand had inched closer to her thigh every time she looked down. 

 

She released a sigh she didn't realise she had been holding and crossed her legs, hoping to create some space between her flesh and his wandering fingers. 

 

With as much subtlety as she could muster she leaned slightly to her left, only to be met with the body of the kid. She smiled apologetically at him and sat up straight. She didn't want to bother him with her problems. But surprisingly, his eyes darted between her legs and the man on her other side. 

 

Even more surprisingly, the kid slid over on the bench creating more space for her to move. She took the opportunity instantly and sent the kid a grateful smile. He nodded his head at her and turned back to face the front. 

 

If it hadn't been for the young one beside her, the hand of the old man probably would have ended up broken. Or worse. 

 

Ah yes. Boredom and Worse. That was why she had decided to act on the idea. This place seemingly untouched by shade and rain in the middle of nowhere.   
It wasn't so much the no shade or rain that had lured her there; made her follow that road. It was the middle of nowhere. No one came looking for you in the middle of nowhere. Or at least they hadn't so far. There was no harm in keeping the tradition. 

 

Feeling a nudge from her left, she noticed everyone standing from their seats and trying to make their way from the church. The Preacher ahead of everyone and already waiting at the doors to shake some hands. 

 

She waited at the back, waiting for the man beside her to leave, just in case he tried anything with her. 

 

Was it just her, or was it hotter than it should be in that building? Slipping her arms from her leather jacket and holding it over her shoulder, she approached the doors to be free of the room. But was stopped when the Preacher stepped in front of her. 

 

"Hello there young lady." She swallowed the lump in her throat at being called that. "You must be the newcomer people have been gossipin' about." Her brows scrunched up in confusion. She'd only been in town a matter of minutes and people were already gossiping about her? She supposed that's what happened in such a close community. She nodded before noticing the kid had taken up position next to her. Almost leaning on her he was so close. "I see you've met my son Jesse." 

 

She cleared her throat and started preparing her next web of lies. She wouldn't be her long after all. "Yes. Uh, your young man Jesse provided some extra room in my time of need." She hoped her accent didn't give away any hints of where she was from. 

 

"I apologise for old man Taylor. He's rather tempted by the sight of flesh."

 

"You have no need to apologise for him." She smiled her most innocent smile before continuing. "And it's a little hot to wear anything more than this. For me anyway. I tend to feel the heat." 

 

"Well unfortunately so do we, out air conditioning broke just this mornin'" Hands on his hips he shook his head in disappointment. "Only just had it installed."

 

"I just fixed the con in my van...." Oh you silly child, why did you day that out loud? She thought to herself. But when the Preacher looked up at her in curiosity she knew she had to finish her sentence. "Maybe I could take a look at yours? I know it's a little different to my con, but I can perhaps try?"

 

"We wouldn't want to be a bother to you." She swallowed the urge to tell him that was fine, she should probably be leaving anyway. 

 

"It's the least I can do after your boy helped." She smiled down at him and watched as he grinned in return. 

 

"Well....alright. Right this way." She hadn't bargained for the man to get her to look at it now. She had hoped for maybe the next morning. Not used to strangers ushering her into their homes, she glanced down at the kid beside her with a raised eyebrow. As if he read her mind, he nodded to her willing her to follow him as he took off after his father. 

Taking a deep breath, she allowed one foot to move, hoping she would not get attached to the people who were being so kind to her. 

"What's your name stranger?" the Preacher asked as she entered their kitchen.

Looking up from the floor, she noticed the boy watching her keenly. It was then that she knew he had already become attached. She had no hope of not doing the same with him. 

"Grace. My name is Grace." She answered truthfully for the first time in as long as she could remember. 

"Welcome to Annville Grace."


	3. Empire State Building

May 1st 1931....

She hated heights. For the life of her she couldn't remember why she had let him take her all the way to the top of the building. Something about rewarding her when they got home. She had groaned at that word. To him reward meant allowing his wife to orgasm more than once in one night. Not that she even did once in one night anymore. She had been faking it ever since they had married. 

 

But if she said no, she would have to give an explanation and her explanation would be revealing that secret. 

 

Instead she had simply nodded and smiled without a word, turned on her heel to change outfits and allowed the man she had no longer loved to control her life as he had been doing since their engagement. 

 

Casting her vision away from the floor in front of the wall she leaned against, she scoped the crowd for her husband, finding him almost immediately chatting up a pretty blonde. 

 

Rolling her eyes she pushed away from her position and made her way closer to the edge of the room to look at the world around her. No one seemed to notice her, they were far too busy enjoying the company around them to notice her. 

 

Now, as she got as close to the edge as she could in the crowd, she wished she had bought a coat. Despite the amount of bodies surrounding her, the breeze was a little more alive up there than down on the ground, and her dress wasn't exactly keeping her warm. 

 

She had just wrapped her arms around herself and looked over at the city surrounding the building when she felt material cover her bare shoulders. 

 

For a moment she thought her husband remembered her existence and turned to thank him. However she was not met with the face that now irritated her beyond measure. Instead of the light brown hair and blue eyes she faced a man with dark hair and hazel eyes. He was also smiling at her. 

 

"Yeh looked a little cold lass." When she didn't reply his smile dimmed somewhat. "Are yeh alright sweetheart?" 

 

"Umm." Wake up you silly girl. The voice of her Mother in her head snapped her out of her stupor. "Yes. Thank you." His full blown smile returned, showing off all his teeth. 

 

"What kind of gent would ol' Cassidy be if he allowed a young lady such as yerself to be cold up here? Are yeh by yerself?" His Irish accent was thick. But she had grown used to accents over the years. 

 

"No. I'm with my -" 

 

"There you are Mirabelle." How the sound of her husband's voice annoyed her now. How she wished Mirabelle was not the name she had told him back when they had first met. How she wished he would not place his arm around her waist. She wanted nothing more than to talk to the mysterious stranger that had apparently, for some reason, noticed her. "Have you made a new friend?" She couldn't help but hear the patronising tone in his voice. It was not her fault she had lost all the friends she had made over the past few years. It was his. But as she continued to look at the stranger it was apparent he had noticed it too, judging by the way his eyebrow had raised. 

 

The man beside her lifted a hand to the stranger, waiting for it to be shaken. "Arthur Murphy. I see you've already met my wife." 

 

"Proinsias Cassidy." The stranger replied. Taking her husband's hand but not bothering to look at him. His gaze was firmly set on her. He released Arthur's hand as if it burned him and held his out to her. 

 

It took every ounce of caution not to tell him her real name as she took his hand, his skin feeling cool against her own. "Mirabelle Murphy." But instead of shaking her hand, he bought it up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. She had not felt such tenderness in such a long time, she had forgotten what it felt like. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the urge to tell him her entire story, and reluctantly took her hand back. But instead of holding her hands together in front of her, picking at the skin around her nails as she so often did, she held the jacket tighter around her smelling the faint scent of alcohol and aftershave. Why could her husband never smell like that? 

 

There was an awkward pause as she and the Irish man continued to stare at one another. She wondering where he had appeared from, and he wondering why such a lovely creature was married to the asshole opposite him. 

 

"My Dear." Arthur began, suddenly ignoring the other man. "I've been looking for you everywhere. There is someone who you absolutely must meet. Come and speak to him now." He turned back to the Irish man. "It was wonderful meeting you, but we really mustn't keep this chap waiting. Why don't you give the man his jacket back hmm?" Arthur's New York accent getting thicker with his irritation. 

 

"The lady is cold. She can keep it." The stranger informed her husband. 

 

"Yes, well." Arthur released his grip on her waist and placed it on her wrist instead, already turning away to drag her along behind him. "Come along darling." 

 

She was too busy looking at the Irish man to notice the people she was passing. The Irish man was too busy holding her gaze to listen to his friends that were calling to him. But all too soon he was lost in the crowd, and for some reason she felt a little sadder. 

 

"Mirabelle, I would like for you to meet Mr Lamb, he designed the building you know."

 

"Hello Mr Lamb." She offered him a hand, but found his hold nowhere near as pleasant. 

 

.......

 

 

 

 

She could already feel herself becoming tired, not to mention bored as the night grew later. She had managed to listen to the Lamb fellow for a handful of minutes before she had excused herself and returned as close to the edge as she could. Looking once more at the view around her. 

 

Surrounding her, there were lives going on. Girls singing their hearts out in the hopes of making it big. Young men falling in love with young ladies. Women giving birth. She was looking at a city that was full of hope and promise. Yet there she was wasting her evening - her life - with a man she detested. 

 

She would have liked to say she still had the reason she detested him firmly in her grasp, but the reason was long gone, buried in a tiny box six feet beneath the earth. 

 

She did not need to look over her shoulder to know that the laughter she could hear emanated from the blonde girl as her husband flirted with her again. He had only approached her earlier to get her away from the Irish Man. Proinsias Cassidy. A curious name. 

 

She had not seen him since she had been dragged away, and the more she thought about him, the sadder she became. 

 

It was at that moment, looking out at New York, that she came to a decision. 

 

Slipping her wedding ring from her finger, she let it fall to the floor, turning away and headed to the nearest exit. 

 

She would not return home with her Husband that night. She would hopefully never set eyes on him ever again. 

 

She was going to live her life, and she was going to do whatever it took to be happy again.


	4. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure about this chapter. What do you think?
> 
> (WARNING: Implied/Mention of infant death)

Her mind had wandered as she had cooked dinner. Tonight, she had promised Jesse his favourite meal, so long as he finished all his homework in time. It was a Friday night, Tulip was - well, she had no idea where Tulip was. John would not tell her, but he had confessed to her that he had hoped she would not see the moment the young girl was taken away. While she hadn't seen her escorted into the car, she had been walking down the driveway, arms full with paper bags with that nights supper, as the car had driven past. Grace had immediately spotted the girl she had come to think of as almost her own in the back seat. A somewhat dejected look on her features, as their eyes met. 

The shopping had fallen from her arms as the vehicle sped away, and Grace had run after it, calling the girls name. Screaming it when the car had disappeared from the road. She had stood and waited for it to come back, for Tulip to announce it had been some sort of twisted joke that everyone but Grace had been a part of. 

But the car never returned. 

Grace was unsure of just how long she had been stood in the same spot, catching her breath, when something suddenly clung to her waist, bringing her from her trance.

Jesse had tucked his face into her side, holding onto her fiercely as if she would be the next to leave them. She took his arms and with some difficulty pried him off her. She had crouched down in front of him and questioned him. But all he had done was shake his head, not uttering a word.

She had pulled him back towards her and held him, allowing him to squeeze her, fiddle with her hair, anything he had wanted, so long as he knew that she wasn't leaving anytime soon. With no idea how long they had been in that position, it came as no surprise that John had approached them, asking them to please, come inside. 

Jesse had only clung to Grace harder, not wanting to look at his Father. And if Grace was honest, she didn't fell much like communicating with the man either. 

She had surprised both of them when she hefted Jesse into her arms, standing up straight, encouraging him to wrap his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist. Not much caring about the ruined food on the road, or the fact that she was carrying Jesse like a toddler, she made her way back to the house, going straight to his bed throwing back the covers and climbing onto the mattress. Jesse only let go of her for a second to pull the covers back over them. It was only then that Grace allowed herself to let the tears fall. It was only then that Jesse let her hold onto him. 

She had not told anyone about her little one. About the pain she had suffered all those years ago. How she still held onto the few memories she had as if they were a lifeline, thought about them everyday, and certainly dreamt about the life she could have - should have - had with her. Yet Jesse held her as if he knew all her pain.

Tulip getting taken ripped new holes into her heart, and she knew she would never feel as whole - or at least almost whole - as she had only the day before. 

Perhaps, if she had spoken up sooner about her little idea, Tulip would still be there. 

The two hiding under the covers ignored the front door gently opening and closing. Ignored the footsteps of the Preacher getting closer before stopping in the doorway of his son's bedroom. 

Grace was sure she heard him open his mouth to speak more than once. But the man never uttered a syllable. After a moment, they both heard the footsteps move away. It was only then did Jesse relax against her. 

Grace was already planning on the angry words she would be having with the man tomorrow. 

But that night as she prepared Jesse's food, she couldn't help but wonder what her own child would have had for a favourite meal. What would she have disliked? How would she look now? Her first word surely would have been "Mom" Since Grace would not have allowed it any other way. 

Now as she watched Jesse push the food around on his plate, the sadness still etched on his face, she came to a risky decision. 

"You know baby, I lost someone very special to me once too." The boy didn't speak, or move his gaze to her, but she could tell he was listening. "I'll admit that this person wasn't to me what Tulip is to you."

"How do you know what Tul-" His head shot up so fast Grace was sure he could have given himself whiplash. 

"I see the way you look at each other, and sometimes hear the things you say." Jesse's cheeks reddened at the thought. "And let me tell you, that you two, well I think you were made for each other." 

"But he wouldn't approve." The word 'he' was essentially spat from the young boys mouth. 

"I don't care what your Father would and would not approve of right now. He can't stop two people who were meant to be together now can he? " Jesse thought for a moment before shaking his head. "And just because she's not here right now doesn't mean you'll never see her again."

"Tell me about your someone." 

"My someone?" 

"Yeah, the one you lost. Have you seen them again?" 

"Like I said she wasn't to me like Tulip is to you. But she made my world brighter."

"She?" The boy questioned with an eyebrow raised, finally taking a bite of his dinner.

"Yes young man, she. Her name was Lily." 

"Is that why you've got a lily tattooed on your stomach?" It was clear he had not meant to say this, judging by how red his cheeks were turning and how fascinating his food had become. 

"Now how would you know about that?" Grace had been sure to keep that covered at all times. Or at least, she thought she had been.

"You're shirt rides up when you're reaching into the cupboards." The reply was unconvincing, but Grace decided to let it go.

"Hmm, yes, that is why I have a lily tattooed on my stomach. Not a day goes by when I don't think about her."

"What was she like?" Jesse was finally able to look her in the eye again and was surprised to find her chin in her hand, elbow resting on the table with a faraway look in her eyes. 

"She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on. Oh Jesse, she had the softest ginger hair, and the brightest blue eyes, and her smile - oh her smile could distract anyone within a five mile radius." 

Jesse thought for a moment how she could have been talking about herself, but continued to watch in awe as the woman before him spoke with such love. It seemed her whole spirit lifted when she spoke of her Lily. He wished he could photograph this moment so he could see this Grace forever, smiling in a way he hadn't seen before. Even her voice had changed. He could hear, ever so slightly, a Texan twang to her words, as if she wasn't thinking about how to use her voice. But then, just as soon as she had lifted, it appeared as if she fell again at his next questions.

"What happened to her? Who was she to you?"

Grace looked to the floor now and couldn't help but remember that night all those years ago when she had walked into her child's room, knowing - feeling - something was wrong. Seeing Arthur in the rocking chair smoking a cigarette, not hearing the gentle breathing of her daughter as she slept, or the sweet innocent noises she made when she was awake. 

She shut her eyes tightly, wanting nothing more than to forget that image and thought of happier times; Feeling free, the Empire State Building, the friends she had made on her travels, all the love she had felt, meeting Jesse and John and Tulip, being welcomed into their home. 

She only opened them when she felt a hand covering her own. Jesse was watching her intently, still waiting for an answer.

"She was my daughter." Now she turned her hand over so she could hold the young boys properly, letting a stray tear fall down her cheek. He squeezed her hand gently as she took a breath to say the words that she hadn't spoken aloud to anyone. "And she died."

Forgetting his dinner altogether, Jesse pushed out of his chair and held Grace as the sobs began to leave her body. He didn't much care how odd the situation looked. He noticed his Father stood in the doorway. It was evident he had heard everything, but instead of coming to the girls side, he met the gaze of his son and nodded before turning away. He would speak to Grace at a later time. But for now, he would allow Jesse to comfort her. 

That night was the second night Grace fell asleep in Jesse's bed. The second time he allowed her to hold him as if he were her own.


End file.
